| [what comes] It approaches surreptitiously, riding on a cold wind from the north, being carried on the fickle gusts that sway the leaves and swirl the dirt� It comes! The fresh scent that marks its descent upon the earth, the skies that grow dark and ominous. These signs, seen in a peripheral vision and noticed subconsciously, mark its imminent onslaught� It comes! Heavy clouds hang low over the horizon in a silent vigil: waiting. Everything is waiting, watching, Every nuance of nature is frozen� calm, placid, serene, like a still-life painting. The land acts in reverence towards the mere potential of its volatile disposition� It comes! The clouds roar and the sky flashes. The winds are set loose, and the heavens send their wrath upon the earth� It is here! The winds howl in contempt as rain and icy hail pummel the exposed flesh of the earth. The planet cries in agony, the heavens a display of her angst� It has no mercy, knows not of remorse or guilt. It is nothing but pure rage as it consumes and destroys, and immolates everything in its path. Then, the fury is repressed, the madness is subdued, and It is driven off. Wet droplets of dew glisten in golden sunlight like diamonds, clinging to plants that are a brighter shade of green. Calm is replaced by beautiful chaos. Things are alive because It has come, and It had gone. The world forgets about it and the world moves on. --Emerald Eyes September 4, 2001 Tuesday, 8:53 PM |